his love for music, and even forwarded his views, by enabling him in several instances to turn his talents on the violin to account, by playing at the musical meetings of North Shields, as well as at the parties of the principal families of the town.

As soon as the term of his apprenticeship was expired, he resolved to quit the trade of boat-building, and devote himself to an art to which his disposition inclined him, and to the pursuit of which the encouragement he had already received operated as an additional stimulus. He had by this time made such progress on the violin, as to be able to lead the Newcastle subscription concerts, where he repeatedly played the solo parts of Geminiani's and Giardini's concertos. His talents attracted the notice of the celebrated Avison, known by his elegant "Essay on Musical Expression," who, with the kindness which characterised him, gave him lessons in thorough bass. He shortly after afforded a striking proof of the manner in which he had profited by this instruction. A new church was to be consecrated at Sunderland: he composed an anthem for the occasion, which was accepted, and performed by the choir of Durham cathedral, to an immense congregation. The best judges pronounced it an excellent specimen of church music; the dignitaries of the church invited him to their tables, and his reputation began to rise from that moment.

He was shortly afterwards invited to undertake the direction of the fashionable concerts at Scarborough, and became the leader in the orchestra of the theatre, for which he composed several songs, written by his friend, the much-admired pastoral poet, Cunningham, who was an actor in the Scarborough company at that period. Here he became acquainted with those wellknown performers Borghi and Fischer, who were so satisfied with his talents and execution, that they strongly advised him to visit London; and afterwards represented his abilities in so favourable a light to the celebrated Giardini, leader of the band at the Opera House, that an engagement was offered him in that orchestra, which he accepted. He took his station among the second violins; but the season following, attracting the notice of Mr. Cramer, who had become leader,

he was promoted to the rank of principal viola, a post which he retained for upwards of eighteen years.

An adventure which occurred to Mr. Shield soon after his first engagement at the Opera is thus related in the "Memoirs of Mr. Holcroft," with whom Mr. Shield had become intimately acquainted in his still more youthful days:

"It was winter, and in consequence of some new piece, they had very long rehearsals every morning. One day Mr. Shield was detained longer than usual, his dinner-hour was over, he felt himself very cold when he came out, and his attendance for so many hours had sharpened his appetite. He therefore proceeded up the Haymarket with the determination to get some refreshment at the first place that offered. He had strolled into St. Martin's Lane, without meeting with any thing that he liked, till he came to a little bye-court, called Porridge Island;' at the corner of which, in a dark, dirty-looking window, he discovered a large round of beef, smoking, which strongly seconded the disposition he already felt in himself to satisfy his hunger. He did not, however, much like the appearance of the place: he looked again, the temptation grew stronger, and at last he ventured in. Having asked for dinner, he was shown into a room up one pair of stairs, not very large, but convenient and clean, where he found several persons already set down to dinner. He was invited to join them, and to his great joy found both the fare and the accommodation excellent. But his attention was shortly much more powerfully arrested by the conversation which took place at the table. Philosophy, religion, politics, poetry, the belles lettres, were talked of, and in such a manner, as to show that every person there was familiar with such subjects, and that they formed the ordinary topics of conversation. Mr. Shield listened in a manner which denoted his surprise and pleasure. The conversation at one time began to take rather a free turn, when a grave, elderly-looking man, who sat at the head of the table, addressed the new guest telling him that he seemed a young man, and by his countenance showed some signs of grace; that he would not have

him mind what was said by persons who scarcely believed their own sophisms; that he himself when young had been attacked and staggered by the same objections; that he had examined them all, and found them all false and hollow. This diverted the discourse to other subjects which were more agreeable. The name of the person who had thus addressed Mr. Shield, and who thus assumed the office of a censor, was Cannon: he was the son of an Irish bishop. He was advanced in years, and presided in the company with an air of authority that was partly submitted to in earnest, and partly humoured for the joke's sake. He regularly dined here every day. On entering the room, he first pulled off his great coat, and fastened it with two long pins to the back of a tall cane-worked old chair, with knobs behind; and after disposing of his umbrella, which in those days was a great singularity, he used to pay his respects to the company with much formality, and then sat down. He had one place, which was always kept for him; and for this privilege, it seems, he paid double price. If any stranger came in by chance, and took possession of his seat, he would never sit down in any other, but walked up and down the room in a restless way, till the person was gone. It was his constant custom to carry with him a small pocket volume of Milton, or Young's Night Thoughts, in which he had made a great number of marginal notes; and as soon as dinner was over, he regularly took out one of his favourite authors, and opening the book at random, requested the person who sat next him, whether a stranger, or one of the usual company, to read aloud a certain passage which he thought very beautiful. This offer was of course declined by those who knew him, who, in return, begged that he would favour the company with it himself, which he did, at the same time repeating the remarks which he had made in the margin. He then very deliberately closed the book, and put it into his pocket again. Cannon was a man of letters, and had travelled. He spoke a very florid language, full of epithets and compound words, and professed to be engaged in an edition of Tibullus.

Mr. Shield was so much amused with this old gentleman, and interested in the general conversation (not to say that the commons were excellent), that he was determined he would in future dine no where else; he was also eager to inform Holcroft of the discovery he had made, whom he invited to go along with him the next day, and who also became a very constant visitor. The persons who were generally present were Messrs. Shield, Nicholson, Holcroft, Cannon, &c. who formed themselves into a little society, which, in compliment to the last-mentioned person, was called The Cannonian.'"

Mr. Shield's first appearance as a dramatic composer was in the year 1778, in the music to the afterpiece of the "Flitch of Bacon," which obtained great success. The words were from the pen of the Rev. Mr. Bate, afterwards Sir Henry Bate Dudley, being also his first dramatic attempt. Some time after this he accepted the situation of composer to Covent Garden Theatre, in which capacity several of his most popular works were produced. A difference, however, between himself and the manager, respecting pecuniary matters, induced the former, after having filled the situation for several years with great success, to send in his resignation.

In the year 1790, while on a visit to Taplow, he had the good fortune to make the acquaintance of Haydn; and he has been heard to declare, that he gained more important information in four days' communion with that founder of a style which has given fame to so many imitators, than ever he did by the best directed studies of any part of his life. “I had seen him," says Shield, "at the concert of Ancient Music the preceding evening; and having observed his countenance expressive of rapture and astonishment at the performance of the chorus in Joshua, The nations tremble at the dreadful sound,' I took the favourable opportunity of asking his opinion of that composition. His reply was, I have long been acquainted with music, but never knew half its powers till I heard this. I am quite certain,' added he,

that only one author, and that author inspired, ever did, or ever could, pen

so sublime a composition."

66

Having afterwards been presented with a manuscript score of 'Il ritorno di Tobia,' by its author, I endeavoured to make some suitable return, by requesting his acceptance of a copy of Jephtha. On expressing my admiration of the recitatives in Haydn's works, which abound in the finest specimens of the enharmonic, this great man proved his liberality and judg ment by exclaiming, Ah, Sir, what is all this to the deep pathos, and contrasted power of the "Deeper and deeper still!"'"-Rudiments of Thorough Bass, p. 69.

He also relates the following anecdote of the father of modern harmony:-" When Haydn accepted an engagement to set accompaniments for a violin and violoncello to one hundred Scotch songs, and when he viewed some of the words and passages, which generally appear uncouth to foreigners, he condescended to refer to me, instead of a glossary, while he played his accompaniments on the piano-forte, and sang the melodies. The violin part to the air Todlin hame' proved so delighting, that with it and the melody we formed a vocal duet. He observed, that when first requested to harmonize this air, he proposed to relieve its monotony by a progression of some of its relative keys; but the attempt.convinced him that modulations and contrasts would destroy its character, and prove less pleasing than its repeated passage. He used to say, that he had blotted many a quire of paper to no purpose, in attempting to compose a second strain to that fine little air, The Broom of the Cowden Knows.' This leads me to mention an anecdote communicated to me by a most respectable traveller. He says, that so highly did Haydn think of our Scotch, Irish, and Welsh melodies, that he had a number of them, with his own symphonies and accompaniments, framed and hung on the walls of his apartments. So singular a compliment to our national music, from so great a man, is surely worthy of being recorded." (Ibid. pp. 30, 31.)

In the summer of 1791, Mr. Shield paid a visit to his native town, where his aged parent was still living, and over whom he watched with a solicitude which furnishes one delightful proof, among many that might be adduced, of the excellence